Harry Potter and the Dentist of Doom
by Norbert for President
Summary: In which the history behind Peeves' vulgar dress-sense is revealed, and Harry becomes addicted to Owl treats!


You kind of need to read 'Red Contact Lenses' to understand this. Oh, and this is NOT, I repeat NOT for Noddy fans.  
  
DISCLAIMER: J. K. Rowling owns all the Harry Potter characters, Enid Blyton all the Noddy and Toyland ones, and T. S. Eliot owns all the Cats characters.  
  
Harry was sitting in the dentist's waiting room. He had come to get his teeth fixed after an unfortunate Quidditch accident involving Fred's bat and his teeth. As Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix it (she was too busy being sued by Hermione's parents, who thought she looked better with a brace), Harry had had to look elsewhere for tooth repair!  
  
This would explain why Harry was sitting, bored, in the waiting room with hardly any teeth reading a magazine, and spying on people (a true nephew of Petunia!). Somebody entered, a small man with a ratty face and a nervous twitch. He was carrying a small bundle. This man was obviously Peter Pettigrew, but Harry (being fairly dense - he failed his Potions exam you know!) didn't immediately work this out.  
  
'Macavity Jellicle' called an assistant. Something stood up. It was large, ginger, and fluffy and its 'coat was dusty from neglect, its whiskers were uncombed'. The assistant shrank back.  
  
'I'vth come for my bwace,' lisped the thing that, on closer inspection, looked like a cat. It then entered the dentist's surgery.  
  
Harry sat down, and was really enjoying reading about why he should buy the new Toyota Corolla (a car to be proud of), when someone else entered. A rather translucent someone. A someone with beautifully blemished skin, and gorgeously greasy hair, who was crying even more loudly than usual.  
  
'Myrtle', Harry breathed, 'what are you doing here?'  
  
'Harry', sobbed Myrtle, 'there's something I really have to tell you.' She erupted once again into floods of tears. 'Something really important.'  
  
'What is it, Myrtle?' asked Harry, bemused.  
  
'This, this . . . isn't the first time I've been pregnant. Peeves is my son!'  
  
'WHAT?' shrieked Harry, jumping from his armchair. Over half of the Muggles turned round to watch, some saying: 'Ooooooooooooh!' others: 'that's why you need to be careful, Gwendolyn', and other, rather unhelpful, gems of this sort.  
  
'No, no Harry. Let me explain! I was raped.' Cried Myrtle, collapsing into the armchair Harry had vacated, and sobbing inconsolably.  
  
'What? You were raped?' said Harry hugging her, then wishing he hadn't as his just-defrosted hands were re-frozen by her icy body. 'Who by? Who did this to you?'  
  
'It was . . . it was . . . I don't know how to say this . . . it was the little man in his red and yellow car!'  
  
'NO!' cried Harry, 'It wasn't, it can't have been.'  
  
'He did,' sobbed Myrtle, 'even you don't believe me. But it was horrible.'  
  
'NODDY?' gasped Harry. 'Noddy raped you?'  
  
'Yes,' sobbed Myrtle, 'Peeves takes after him. With his lurid dress sense, and his bad manners, and his tricks.'  
  
'I'm so sorry.'  
  
'I have to go now, Harry. I can't stay here. I'll meet you in my toilet later. I just thought that you should know.'  
  
With this, Myrtle left, leaving Harry to muse over what she had just told him. Macavity left the dentist's surgery, wearing a bright pink brace, sporting several 'I've been brave at the dentist's' stickers, and carrying the dentist's chair and an assortment of shiny tools, which he insisted were: 'Gifts for being so good.'  
  
An assistant came out again, saying: 'Harry Potter.'  
  
Harry slowly left his seat, just as the waiting room was inundated with uniformed Scotland Yard officers, and again, several members of the FBI, who, this time, as the place had nothing really worth stealing, stood still and looked decorative.  
  
Harry entered the surgery. His breakfast felt like it was making a bid for freedom (Harry had never liked dentists because Yvonne, Aunt Petunia's friend who hated him, was a dentist. His aunt had told him this as well as a host of other things about her family, on whom she had obviously targeted a massive spying operation). However Harry slowly approached the dentist chair.  
  
'Sit down,' said a muffled voice. Harry could see that someone was trying to put on a mask. Someone with black greasy hair and sallow skin.  
  
'YOU!' Harry bellowed. *First Myrtle and now this*.  
  
Snape spluttered and swallowed. 'Potter. What are you doing? I have people to see.'  
  
'What am I doing? What are YOU doing? Since when have you been a dentist? And WHY are you eating an Owl treat?'  
  
'I like dentistry. It's very enjoyable. I like the look of terror on people's faces. And this way I can torture people legally. I mean, they even PAY me to do it. Who in their right minds would turn down such an opportunity? And as to the Owl treats, that's a very personal question. I'm sure you like some unusual foods.'  
  
'Yes, but at least I keep away from pet food.'  
  
'Owl treats are good for you. Lots of fibre. Anyway, I'm busy. Do you need anything done for your teeth, or are you just wasting my time?'  
  
'They're broken.' Said Harry, shortly.  
  
'Sit on the chair and open your mouth.' Said Snape. Harry obeyed.  
  
Snape looked at him critically, grabbed his jaw, and forced his mouth open further.  
  
'Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!'  
  
'Be quiet, boy,' snapped Snape. 'You've been very careless. 100 points from Gryffindor.'  
  
'B . . . but you can't do that!' spluttered Harry indignantly. 'I'm not at school!'  
  
'Do you presume to tell me what I can or cannot do?'  
  
Harry desperately wanted to say 'yes', but Snape was the one with the power. Snape was the one with the scalpels. Snape was the one with the instruments of torture. Harry, wisely, decided not to risk it.  
  
'Assistant!' called Snape.  
  
Harry was expecting to see the spotty youth who called out the names. So he got a shock when Draco Malfoy walked into the room.  
  
'Severus?' he asked, an eyebrow raised.  
  
Harry gasped. 'What?' he spluttered.  
  
'Come and help, Draco.' Said Snape. Malfoy walked over, the sullen look on his face changing to a look of glee when he saw who the patient was.  
  
'What . . . ?' Harry began again, but couldn't finish his sentence as Snape shoved some vile smelling goo into his mouth. Malfoy and Snape swooped over him like vultures, scalpels waving. Harry thought he heard a vague, 'We'll have some fun here' before everything blacked out, and he knew no more.  
  
A few minutes later, he recovered consciousness, and sat bolt upright, screaming. Snape clamped his hand over Harry's mouth. Harry stopped.  
  
'Bring me the mirror, Draco.' Snape said, smiling. It didn't suit him. Malfoy handed Snape the mirror, cackling quietly. Harry looked in it. And almost fainted again. Where his canines should have been, there were four great fangs. And these were held in place by traintracks. Traintracks. Harry hoped Madam Pomfrey would be back to work soon.  
  
'Out you go, Potter,' said Snape malevolently. 'Oh, and before you go.' He stuffed something into Harry's mouth. Harry could not help but chew it. It was pleasantly sugary, and tasted quite . . . quite . . . Harry couldn't describe it exactly, kind of dusty. But Harry knew not to trust Snape, and quickly spat it out.  
  
'Potter, you never fail to revolt me,' said Snape, disgustedly.  
  
'What WAS it?' asked Harry.  
  
'An owl treat.' Replied Snape, 'Wasted on a boy like you. By the way, you'll need a follow-up appointment in three weeks.' He handed Harry a small card. Malfoy followed Harry out.  
  
'Peter.' Malfoy called. The small man who looked like a rat picked up his bundle and walked into the surgery.  
  
Harry took his card to give to the receptionist, and thought he would ask for a drink of water. But when he got to the desk, he had quite a shock.  
  
'YOU!' he cried. Someone rather glittery was standing behind the desk. And no, it wasn't Elvis. Or Liberachi. It was, as you've probably guessed, Professor Trelawney. Gawping, he handed her his appointment card.  
  
'Three weeks, my dear, three weeks, my poor dear boy. I am afraid that is over hopeful, for I do not believe you will survive half that. I can see your death, my dear. It is as obvious as your ill-assorted fangs and traintracks. And it will happen tonight, my dear. Tonight.'  
  
'OK,' said Harry, stepping back and reaching for his appointment card. He didn't think he'd risk asking Trelawney for a drink of water, but there seemed to be a drinks machine selling soft drinks in the middle of the waiting room. Right next to a poster telling you that they were bad for your teeth. Anyway, Harry bought a drink, and sat down to drink it. As he did so, the small man and his bundle came out of Snape's surgery, grinning. Like Britney Spears, he was trying to advertise his dentist by showing every one of his teeth when he smiled.  
  
The bundle spoke. 'Wormtail, my fangs.'  
  
Harry leapt to his feet. Several Muggles glanced at him quizzically. 'YOU!' he shouted for the third time that day. Muggles started to edge away. 'What are you doing?'  
  
Peter Pettigrew scowled. 'Going to the dentist, oddly enough.' He said.  
  
The voice came again, mellifluous, cold, and replusive: 'Wormtail, you are too hasty. Let ME speak to him.' The Muggles were starting to worry, talking bundles weren't commonly encountered. A few began to leave.  
  
'Kill the crowd,' said whatever was inside the bundle, 'and give me my fangs!'  
  
'Sorry master, of course master' said Pettigrew, raising his wand.  
  
'NO!' shouted Harry, lunging for it. Pettigrew held it out of his reach. The Muggles really began to leave now.  
  
'Cruciatus' whispered the soft, hissing voice. Harry fell to the floor, writhing. Red hot fire was shooting through his body. While this was happening, Pettigrew screeched: 'AVADA KEDAVRA!' killing all the remaining Muggles who had foolishly not tried to run away or who just hadn't noticed what was going on (Remember: Always leave when Dark Wizards arrive. Do not stop to collect your belongings. Do not panic. Close all doors and windows . its just like fire rules).  
  
Harry was then released from the curse. While he was collecting himself, trying to slow his breathing, Pettigrew unwrapped the bundle. Whatever was inside it was slimy and scaly, with glaring red eyes and a chalk white face. It was terrifying. But it didn't seem to think so . . .  
  
'My fangs, you fool, I need my fangs. I need the fangs to emphasize my face powder and the contacts. Where are they?'  
  
'Here, my lord, here.' Pettigrew grovelled.  
  
'That's better. Because we all know what would happen if I was seen without them, don't we, Wormtail?'  
  
'Y . . . y . . . yes, master,' cried Pettigrew. 'I'm so sorry.'  
  
Voldemort put his fangs in, leering at Harry, then slapping Pettigrew disgustedly with his weak hand. 'Off my robes! I've told you so many times. I do not want your body fluids contaminating my designer wizard robes. 1,000 galleons, these cost. Celebrities need to be well dressed. If I'm photographed, I'll need these to be looking good.'  
  
'S . . . s . . . sorry,' said Pettigrew, snivelling.  
  
'Harry, those fangs really don't suit you,' said Voldemort, helpfully. 'I assume Severus fitted them? How could you trust your teeth to that man?'  
  
Harry fumed, 'Expelliarmus' he cried. But Voldemort was keeping a firm hold on his wand.  
  
'Oh dear. We'll have to tie you up if you're going to behave like that. Really. This is the sort of behaviour I'd expect from a two year old.' Voldemort clicked his fingers, and ropes sprang out of nowhere to tie Harry tightly.  
  
'Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmwwwwghh!' said Harry.  
  
'Sorry, you'll have to speak a little more clearly, Harry,' said Voldemort laughing.  
  
'Mmmmmmmmmmmmphf!'  
  
Voldemort twitched his index finger, and the ropes surrounding Harry's mouth relaxed. Harry spat.  
  
'I suppose you're in league with Noddy?' He asked Voldemort.  
  
Voldemort looked at him incredulously. 'NODDY?' he asked, 'Harry, what do you take me for? When have I ever, EVER shown the remotest link with Toyland?'  
  
'It's just the sort of thing you'd do, isn't it? Get Noddy to rape Myrtle, get him on your side?'  
  
'Harry, you're insane. Toyland is REALLY not my kind of place. If Noddy raped Myrtle, you need Mr. Plod, not me. But really. NODDY? On MY side? I am Lord Voldemort, not a Toyland fanatic.'  
  
Snape came out of his surgery, and ran up to Voldemort. 'Master' he cried, 'can I help?'  
  
'Severus, you cannot have two masters. You cannot serve both me and owl treats. One day you will have to choose. But for the meantime, you could help me get rid of this boy.'  
  
'Of course, master.'  
  
Harry heard footsteps. Maybe he would be alright. But it was only a Scotland Yard official. 'Have you seen Macavity?' he demanded.  
  
'Not recently,' Harry helpfully said - he'd been taught well by Aunt Petunia.  
  
'OK,' the guard said, turning to bellow: 'Macavity's not here.' down the stairs. Voldemort looked at him disdainfully, and the guard left.  
  
'Now, back to business.' He said. 'Severus, could you summon your sister?'  
  
'Certainly, master.' Said Snape, performing a spell. A second later, someone apparated with a small POP. It was Professor McGonagall.  
  
'Minerva!' said Voldemort. 'A pleasure, as always.'  
  
'Master', said McGonagall, bowing.  
  
'What?' cried Harry, 'you're his SISTER?'  
  
'Sadly, yes.' Said McGonagall, 'and he's stolen my prize Barbie. It's so unfair. He doesn't even like Barbies. He spends all the time playing with his stupid cars and his jewellery.'  
  
'They're not stupid!' said Snape, while Harry said 'JEWELLERY?'  
  
'He's a transvestite, Potter.' said McGonagall.  
  
'But, professor, you can't be in league with Voldemort!'  
  
'Well I didn't have a choice dear, it was join him or lose my favourite Barbie. I mean, what would you've chosen?'  
  
Harry decided not to answer that.  
  
Voldemort smiled. It wasn't a pretty sight. He waved his fingers and the ropes fell off Harry. Harry jumped to his feet and raised his wand, but Voldemort had anticipated that. His wand was already pointing directly at Harry. Harry cried 'Expelliarmus' but it didn't work. Voldemort then cried 'AVADA KEDAVRA'! then 'Damn, missed!' as Professor McGonagall crumpled and fell to the floor, dead.  
  
Harry gasped, dismayed, but Voldemort was even more so. *Why can't I get this right?* he thought, then remembered *Yoga breathing* and started the exercises. Snape looked briefly at his sister, turned, and fell onto Pettigrew's shoulder: 'Why didn't she like me?' he sobbed, 'Why didn't she like my cars?'  
  
Pettigrew was in danger of collapsing, Snape being twice his size, and with the added weight of an assortment of large green necklaces obviously stolen from Professor Trelawney. Voldemort said: 'Give him an Owl treat to shut him up, I need to concentrate!' Harry had the time he needed. Leaping up he ran to the stairs and out of the dentist's.  
  
He would be safe now. Voldemort could not follow without help, and as McGonagall was dead, Pettigrew's shoulder was probably broken, and Snape was crying inconsolably, Harry seemed to have a pretty good chance of survival.  
  
As Harry walked down the street, a sudden urge to eat something sweet came over him. Something sugary . . . something . . . dusty.  
  
Harry approached the nearest passer-by (who happened to be Macavity, this time carrying a vending machine).  
  
'Do you know where I can find a pet shop?' he asked politely.  
  
THE END (Pleeeeeeeeeeeease review!) 


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